Tight Rope
by KeivRus
Summary: Shinjiro finally wakes up from his coma only to see someone he'd never expect. Shinji/Mitsuru
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I recently replayed P3P and I just noticed a few things that made this pairing, Shinji/Mitsuru, something worth exploring. I'm a sucker for the whole "opposites attract" thing so why not. It's my first chapters story so wish me luck. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own shit

* * *

"How long are you going to keep this shit up?" His voice curdled and cracked unpleasantly from the lack of use. Everything from his damn headache to unforgiving mass of his debilitating muscles weighing against his fragile, unused joints were signs of how much time had gone by. He glared at her, which he knew well enough by now did absolutely nothing to phase the heiress.

His eyes glanced down momentarily to catch her reddened lips purse into a controlled, unforgiving line. Shinjiro always knew she disapproved of his vulgar choice of words, but eloquently laced sentences in French were never his style. The way she tightly inhaled and replied, "If you mean how long it will be until you're discharged from the hospital," she exhaled now, "I assure you, it won't be until we have clear results of your current state of health." She gave him the look that somehow seized on his complete cooperation.

He almost _wished _Aki was here instead of her—hell, he would have even preferred Iori over this princess—but the doctors were instructed to call her had he woke up—_if _he ever woke up. The fact that she planned ahead to his near miraculous awakening, was more than enough to prove that she was in fact worthy of her inherited burden. Everything from her pristinely pressed collared blouse to her perfectly manicured tips made him feel off edge. How the hell did she even have to time to look like that in the middle of the night? The fact that she was staring straight through him made it more obvious how put-together she actually looked. Not even a slight hint of a dark circle, a candid yawn, or even a reddened eye from exhaustion was present. That made him wonder if she was awake this whole time. He could only assume she had at least hundreds of other things to do. Despite her seemingly composed appearance, everyone deserved to be asleep at this ungodly hour.

"Tch, whatever," he scoffed as looked vaguely to the left of the bleached hospital room, "Don't you have anything better to do?" He glanced down at the pile of paperwork she had neatly placed on her lap. He only looked long enough to see graphs and unfamiliar words that made it condescendingly clear that it was a world someone like him had no part in. "I know you called Aki already. He can take care of it from here."

She closed her eyes before placing the papers on the desk nearby, and he caught himself staring a bit too long at how her fan-like lashes cascaded feathery shadows across her high cheekbones. She even took the time to move his untouched food to avoid getting her paperwork soiled. But seeing her do something as normal as carrying a cheap plastic food tray, made him want to snatch it right out of her porcelain-like hands. Instead, he gripped his hand into a fist. "I only left him a message," She briefly turned to look at him. Realizing that she needed to clarify her reasoning, the heiress continued, "I didn't want to interrupt his studies. He has exams coming up tomorrow."

There was a heavy weight in the room, and finally he saw a glimpse of her losing track of her steady stride as she looked nervously to the right, "I-I didn't mean to put his studies over your health, I just–," He raised his hand to stop her.

"I got it," He gruffly replied. Ever since the beginning of SEES, they were somehow aware of each other's responsibility for taking care of Aki. There was never a need to vocalize why, somehow, they just silently knew it was something they had to do. He could only assume her reasoning was because she was the one who lured an innocent into the world of Shadows and placed burdens far too heavy for any adolescent to carry.

Shinjiro didn't need all the pieces of her actions put together for him. Akihiko was always stupid. Who else would continuously pursue an aimless, guilt-ridden boy to join a team based on their loose definition of friendship? As much as he would have liked his death to have been a painless, natural passing, he knew well enough it damaged Akihiko in some way. What a crybaby. It must have taken time and a firm resolve to put Akihiko's life back together, and Shinjiro was more than relieved to know that Akihiko was in college now, and moving on. The one thing Aki didn't need was to be dragged back because of his own goddamn mess.

She was different, in a way. Nothing about her made him worry, and to be honest, she never even gave him any reason or permission to be concerned for her—if anything, she seemed to distance herself from him a bit. He was sure she was smart enough to pick up on the fact that he disliked her from the moment she introduced Akihiko to his innate Persona. Still, she was always present in the back of his mind, and now he could only grit his teeth in stifled embarrassment at his own behavior. It didin't help hearing Yukari mention that he was "kind" during the back alley incident. Despite Mitsuru's impeccable fencing technique, and her advanced knowledge of Shadows and Tartarus, there was always something about her thin shoulders and her blushed cheeks, that kept the corner of his eye locked on her whenever they found the gall to enter Tartarus during their amateur days.

"What about you?" He asked finally, to keep his thoughts from wandering into unwanted terrain. He looked at the clock that had just ticked past yet another hour. "Don't you need to be studying or some shit?" His voice was callous as usual–mocking almost–but he didn't intend it to be that way. His eyes widened slightly when he heard her chuckling softly and even that sounded refined, like a well tuned instrument.

"I'm learning at a far higher level. I've graduated from college early. There are no exams that I need to be concerned with at the moment." He quietly scoffed, but he knew her well enough that her words carried no vanity. That was merely the world she lived in, and to her it was just a fact that carried no false pretense.

"Well, you're gonna have to deal with his bitchin' tomorrow," he added. His voice now carried a timbre of humor and his shoulders drooped finally in ease. "He's not going to be happy about this."

She didn't seem so irritated by his curses, in fact her lips almost quirked into a thin, amused smirk. "I'm well aware of the consequences." She paused before allowing herself to continue, "Welcome back."

And despite her icy front, her smile only exuded a familiar warmth he had almost long forgotten.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Part two was surprisingly not as tough to write as I thought. I really hate writing sequentially which is why I tend to stick to drabbles, but my muse is on a high! Hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own shit.

MissHanamura: Seeing your reviews always brightens up my day and makes writing worth it. Thanks for making the time to read and review it means more than you think. I'm glad I made you see them in a different light, it's something I enjoy doing as a rabid character analyzer. Hopefully, I can make you see the chemistry between them more.

Infinite Carnage: I don't want to get your hopes up, but perhaps you'll get to see tidbits of that ohohoho. Thank you for the review, I appreciate it!

On to the good stuff.

* * *

A mechanic rhythmic beep penetrated his senses. With a groan he pushed himself upright with his elbows. It annoyed it how much effort it took until he realized he was still in a white sterilized hospital bed. Rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand, he waited until his vision refocused. Waking up from his coma the day before felt like any other morning, but now that he was aware of how long he had been immobilized, every time he woke up he couldn't help but feel a rushing sense of relief. He just wasn't sure if relief was the right emotion to feel. In his mind, there were still irreparable damages that he had to pay for. Now that he somehow escaped death, his sacrifice was a moot point. Despite the benign pallidness of white around him, his hands were still stained with regret. Before he could delve further into his guilt, a soft hum of breathing arrested him.

It wasn't until he looked at her sleeping soundlessly on the chair next to his bedside that he realized she had been here all night. He had a pounding headache, and the doctors explained that the feeling of needles prickling against his skull was a normal reaction after his post-comatose state. That along with a few other things such as the weakening of his joints and maybe memory loss. The horsepower that defined his fighting before was rendered useless by three steel bullets. But luckily, the memory that racked his mind with guilt, served him fine.

Even in her sleep she looked deep in thought. Her brows were furrowed together as though she were reading some business proposal in her dreams. With an amused scoff, he assumed he was right as she murmured a few nonsensical words. Shinjiro stared at her for a bit, and if he had the time to realize his own actions he would have denied it ever happened.

It wasn't so much her facial features that made him stop and stare. Although, even his stunted emotions couldn't doubt that she was—he shook his head. That was a pointless thought.

It was how defenseless she looked that made his eyes linger sinfully longer than it should. Her posture was always upright and poised, and her gaze was alert, sharp, and cold. Shinjiro had seen Akihiko and Junpei shrivel underneath her judgmental glower—but he never understood why. Underneath all that wealth and responsibility, she was just another girl.

It didn't take him long to remember that they both fell asleep after a strong cup of coffee that failed to do its job. There was a nagging thought in the back of his mind that listed various possibilities on why the doctors took so long with his test results. He quickly dispersed those listless thoughts with a simple, '_Fuck it.' _It just didn't seem right to wake her up over something like his health when his fate should've been sealed from the start—especially when she finally looked at ease, like a girl her age should look like. Wordlessly, he leaned over to grab an extra sheet from the bedside table and unceremoniously draped it over her due to his bedridden state. The fact that she didn't wake up just from that was enough to show how exhausted she had been. With a scowl he silently admonished her for being so careless. Didn't the heiress with all her education realize sleeping in an air conditioned room without cover would only result in a cold the next day? His chapped lips peeled into a visible sneer.

He was getting soft.

A couple of frenetic muffled voices, and an unmistakable stomping made it clear who was out the door. With a low groan, Shinjiro braced himself for a swift left hook to the face.

"Shinji!" Akihiko burst into the room, and despite the commotion the only thing Shinjiro noticed was that the stupid bandage on his left temple was gone. Something about the absence of the bandage alone was enough to show that Aki had grown up a bit, but quite frankly, not enough.

"Idiot, don't raise your voice in a hospital. Are you stupid or something?" He barked, but his grimace subconsciously quirked into an amused smirk at Akihiko's wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare. Still, the complete state of shock on his best friend's face was proof that he really had died, and it had done more damage than he thought. He bit back the urge to say 'you gonna cry or something?' but instead he retorted, "You look like you've seen a ghost." Akihiko's indecipherable expression which followed that statement made Shinji visibly wince. It might have been a rather painless passing for him, but he knew it wasn't quite the same for Akihiko.

Luckily, the ruffling sound of Mitsuru waking up tore both of their attention away from each other. Shinjiro's lips pursed into a firm line. She could have had at least a few more hours to sleep if Akihiko didn't barge into a room with the discreetness of a rebellious toddler. He silently stared as Akihiko stomped his way to her. Shinji could tell from the boxer's tightly gripped fists and the way his chest heaved up to his chin, that Akihiko was furious. "Why didn't you call me sooner Mitsuru?"

With a sharp clack of her boots, she stood up to meet the boxer's eye level. Without losing a beat, she neatly folded the blanket that was clumsily draped over her shoulders before setting it on her vacated chair. Shinji's brow rose. He was impressed she could fold anything. Didn't she have maids to do that for her? She combed a hand through her hair to untangle any knots that might have formed during her slumber, but the action was unnecessary. She looked as polished as ever.

Her gaze had no sign of drowsiness or exhaustion from her rather sleepless night before, and the Mitsuru that confidently reintroduced herself to him last night resurfaced—the defenseless sleeping girl next to his bedside disappeared in an instant. She folded her arms, a simple warning of how quickly she was losing her patience, before blinking up at Akihiko. "I did what I thought was best." she stated with a threatening edge to her voice.

"Still, I deser-"

"I told her not to," Shinji muttered, "It was bad enough with her here, I didn't want anyone else around, alright? Quit your whining." He didn't need to look over at Mitsuru's stiffening posture to know that she didn't approve of his interjection. "Now, are you just going to stand there or are you gonna call a doctor yet?" The two locked eyes in a wordless argument before Akihiko left the room with an exasperated sigh and a lingering stare at Mitsuru.

As soon as he was out of sight she added, "You didn't need to do that," Her words held a cold edge.

"He was getting on my nerves."

There was a pregnant pause before she cleared her throat, "Thank you for the blanket." It was just like her to keep her pride. She didn't need or want his help—he was fine with that, in fact he preferred it—but she was still courteous enough to appreciate his actions.

"Tch," he leaned back against the hospital bed, his headache now suddenly resurfacing, "That wasn't me."

Something about the way her lips curled ever so slightly, made it obvious she had seen right through him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I really hate writing boohoo-why-me things so that's why this one took a felt like I had to write through grit teeth, but at least most of it's over now. I replayed Persona 3 during the time period between this chapter and the previous one to take some notes and I found some interesting things. Shinjiro's motto in the game is "what happens, happens" which also explains why he's seen standing in the back alley in front of the club, Que Sera Sera.

He deals with the consequence of his actions and just whatever happens to him in general, but that doesn't mean he's flighty he just accepts punishment whether or not it's deserved or not. I think that's why he takes suppressants, quite school, and just lives life like a hobo. He stole a life, so he takes his own.

I don't think Shinjiro will be brooding for long (at least let's hope so for my sake), but I'm the kind of writer that goes with the flow. Planning ahead only makes me overthink/get stuck on things so I hope this chapter isn't a disappointment.

** Infinite Carnage**: I love Shinjiro's character too! I wish he had a bigger part in Persona 3, but we can't all win. Thank you, I really like the analyze characters, but I have to admit it's hard piecing together how Shinjiro would react to this situation given the limited amount of dialogue he has in the game. I hope it's in character, it seemed right as I was writing it.

** MissHanamura**: Ah, thank you! I'm sorry to disappoint you then for making this one come weeks after. I have a lot of unpublished stories on hold in case I get stuck on this story for far too long so hopefully you'll always have something to read. Thanks for always commenting it really gives me motivation to write! I would like to think I put in a lot of thought and detail so I'm grateful that you've noticed that!

Also, if it isn't too much trouble let me know what you think of the lengths of these chapters. I keep thinking they're not long enough. I had an extra 500 words for this chapter planned, but I thought stopping here was a better ending. Ugh the struggle.

Disclaimer: I don't own Persona 3 but I wish I owned Shinjiro.

On to the good stuff.

* * *

It was the day of his release and Mitsuru came into his room carrying a bouquet so grand it seemed to consume the room whole. His incredulous look must have been enough to voice his confusion.

"I wasn't sure how to celebrate the occasion," she spoke and her words were as crisp as winter despite her apparent embarrassment, "Perhaps this was a bit excessive."

"Didn't you know cut flowers aren't meant to be brought into a hospital?" He scoffed but amusement coated his words. She was silent, but the look in her eyes almost commanded him for an explanation. Scratching the back of his neck, he muttered, "They keep the patient bedridden longer because they steal the patient's 'roots'." He looked away with a visible grimace. This was stupid, "You hear shit like that all the time on the streets. Forget about it." It was a story he heard in passing Raffelisia's flower shop in Port Island. Why it stuck to him to this day or why he felt the need to say something to her, he would never know.

"I see," She brought a hand to her chin, and he almost chuckled at how seriously she seemed to take the old wives tale, "Although, I highly doubt a few flowers will keep you in that bed any longer." Her red lips smirked as though she approved of his recovery, "Akihiko told me to inform you that he will be here shortly to take you to the dorms. I unfortunately, have other matters to attend to."

"I don't need either of you to walk me around," he barked. She said nothing and the sound of the her setting the vase down on his beside table and her wry smile was her only response.

Akihiko told him the night before that his room in the dorms was still available. Even though it seemed that Akihiko was more surprised about his awakening than he was, the boxer was as resilient as ever. The way he casually left the night before with a, "I'll come pick you up tomorrow" made it seem as though he were just in deep slumber.

He almost wanted to punch him for keeping his room vacant, but the thought of putting them both in the hospital kept him restrained. He didn't want a single part of him to be left behind, why else would he keep that room so scarcely furnished during his temporary reunion with SEES? It almost made it seem as though they all expected him to wake up, but Mitsuru quickly extinguished that thought. With a satisfied arched brow she mentioned how much Akihiko had matured over the years following his hospitalization. "You would be proud of him," she said as she closed her eyes briefly—as though she were trying to forget a linger memory.

A part of him felt relieved that there was something to return to, even if it was just the dust settling on top of his unused desk.

He smiled slightly, a smile so subtle he didn't even realize the slight quirk of his upper lip, when he remembered _her. _Her face was an amalgamation of so many things like bright eyes and a mouth that curved upwards whenever she spoke. And the words she would say would always come across as thrilling and dripping with optimism that you felt believed in. Her eyes would widen when she smiled, and her brow would wrinkle together when she teasingly frowned and despite the burden of carrying a team on her shoulders, they would never hunch under the overwhelming pressure. She was as unpredictable as her infinite abilities, yet so simple to read when she walked up to him with an emboldened look only to say the words only she would be able to string together: "Can I go to your room?"

"How is she?" The words slipped out of his mouth and if it wasn't for his stubborn sense of pride her name would have been the first words muttered through his chapped lips. Even to this day, she seemed to be the only thought in his mind. Her crying face was the last thing he could remember, and even though it had been years, to him it felt like just the other night. Whether that was due to the effects of a coma, or how vivid she always appeared he would never know.

"She?" Mitsuru's fingered finally stopped rifling through her files of papers. Her expression was unreadable like a mixture of pure confusion and a loss to grasp any of his words.

He looked away. God, he must have looked like an idiot. A part of him couldn't help but be slightly disappointed that she wasn't the first on to appear before him when he woke up. How would she greet him? Did she still feel the same way? Maybe that was the reason why she didn't show up at his bedside with that radiant smile and a few reassuring words that he needed to hear specifically from her lips. After the stained pause, he looked back at Mitsuru. Why was she so silent? Even she, with her sheltered catering life, must have figured out who he was referring to.

She seemed frozen in place.

All the air of elegance and poise that she usually carried with such nonchalance and ease, was carelessly thrown in away in one revealing moment. Something had gone terribly wrong, and it didn't take him long to patch it together.

"What the hell have you been hiding?" Fear was now paralyzing him more than his aching muscles and following that was anger so unadulterated it only be defined as _red. _

"I-I didn't mean to keep it from you, it just happened so long ago I—"

"Whaddya mean 'long ago?'" It had only been a year and a half since he was bedridden. The lost time all seemed to collide too quickly and the headache resonating from the back of his mind was a result of ricocheting off a wall of ignorance. He knew the day they he woke up and took various tests of health that the Dark Hour was gone. Mitsuru didn't even look at the clock twice when a minute passed Midnight without its usual sickly, pallid green hue. There was no doubt in his mind that the team would put a stop to Strega, the Dark Hour, and the rising numbers of the Lost, but he didn't even bother to ask at what cost. It all seemed so strange and inconceivable that months seemed to fly past him while he was still moving on with a fresh bullet wound to his chest, but they were only subtle scars now.

"What exactly happened while I was dead," His words were scathing hot now and they dripped acid as they spilled uncontrollably out of his mouth. Was Minako in the hospital room next door? Did she move somewhere? Was she—

The look on Mitsuru's face said it all.

"Dammit!" He can barely contain his thoughts and with his remaining composure he slams his fist against the wall next to him causing the room to thunder under his dwindling sanity. And if that isn't enough, the door slams open.

"Shinji are you alright? I heard a noise—," Even with his debilitating muscles, he could still rely on his empowering stature. And with the force of an enraged ox, he stomps toward him to grab Akihiko by his pristine white collar.

"Why didn't you protect her?!"

Akihiko glanced toward Mitsuru before his gaze shamefully lowered to the tiled floor. From a simple look, he knows that they've all come to terms with it. She's a distant yet fond memory to them while she was still so incredibly fresh in his mind he could practically taste her in his lips.

"I'm sorry…I couldn't do anything to stop it."

It didn't even register to Shinjiro to ask what "it" was. All he could think of was how stupid he was to ask her to protect Aki, when in the end it was just the opposite. The punch he refrained from the day before his full force now as he pummels his right knuckle straight into Akihiko's lower right cheek What he wanted was Akihiko to fight back, to give his usual left hook straight at his jaw. Instead he stood there lifeless, blood dribbling down his nose in complete compliance. She really was gone, and at some point they all irreparably suffered from it. At this point he didn't know what was worse, her death or that now he was awake to realize it.

He looked past Mitsuru to the bouquet sitting beside his bed. All he could think of was how incomparable the flowers were compared to her radiance and how he _wished _they would consume every inch of him until he's back to his eternal slumber.

* * *

The flowers in the hospital room stealing a patient's "life energy" to compensate for their roots is something I made up or a subconsciously picked it up from something. Either way, I'm pretty sure flowers are more than welcome in a hospital.

I just enjoy playing around with a few themes and flowers have been one that I've used before this story.

Because of my slow pace, I decided to leave a hint of what you can look forward to in the next chapter!

Chapter 4 will probably consist of a lot of Shinjiro's inner thoughts and how he deals with moving on from this or if he even wants to move on. I'm pretty sure there are still a few suppressants left in that coat pocket of his! And don't forget, we never heard back from the doctors about Shinjiro's current health. A pretty little bird told me that suppressants have quite the side effect...


End file.
